The Ultimate Betrayal
by Hollow Nightmare
Summary: It all started with a discovery, one that would change everything. [Oneshot] [AU] [RLNB]


Title: The Ultimate Betrayal

Author: Hollow nightmare

Rating: M

Summary: A look at the relationship between Remus and Narcissa. Oneshot AU RLNB

Author's Notes: The inspiration for this came from _Something Borrowed _by Emily Griffin, and a photograph by photoport, which can be viewed at (if you get rid of the spaces) http // www . deviantart . com / view / 14733294 /

Please review!

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Most of the time, people say it started with a smile, or with a passing glance. Not for us. It all started with a discovery. Or, rather, a discovery on her part - one that would change everything.

I remember it kind of blurred, like a sepia photograph shot in the rain. I remember the meaning of Sirius' words, but not what he actually said. I remember we weren't the only ones to hear them, to understand them. I remember her expression when I opened the door. But most of all, I remember the blind, terrifying panic that came over me.

I didn't get a chance to speak to her, but Sirius did, because they were cousins. I don't know what he said, but she kept it quiet, something I'll be forever grateful for. Throughout the next few weeks, I never saw her. To this day, I don't know if I was avoiding her, if she was avoiding me, or if it was just coincidence. We weren't exactly friends, anyway, and we only shared one class together. I guess it doesn't even matter now.

Then, one day, it happened. We spoke. And it wasn't all like I had expected it to be. _She _wasn't what I expected her to be. It was a Monday morning, right before our first class. My head was aching from lack of sleep, and I wanted to check if Madam Pomfrey had any potions for me. I didn't think I'd be able to concentrate in class.

As I was turning the corner, I spotted a girl crouching on the floor with her books scattered all around her. She was blonde, but I couldn't see her face, so I didn't think much of it; there were plenty of blondes at Hogwarts. And, being me, I was willing to help her. I don't know if that's a strength or a weakness, just the mere truth. I think it's because I know first-hand what it's like to be helpless. So, of course, I knelt down next to her and started picking up her books.

"Here," I muttered, eyes on the books as I picked them up, "let me help."

Her hands - tiny hands with long fingers - froze and stilled, hovering above the last book.

"What?" I asked, wondering about the pause.

Then I looked up, and swallowed heavily. It was her, Narcissa Black, looking down at me with a slightly parted mouth. My mind went blank, leaving me to drink in her pretty face. She had full lips and a perfectly-shaped face with clear skin - no acne or pimples like most girls.

I felt that same blind panic, and a clenching in my stomach. Fear. I quickly looked away, lowering my head to the books in my hand.

"Thanks," she said after a pregnant pause, and it caused my head to jerk up in surprise. She had a nice voice, soft and almost melodic. I don't think she had ever spoken to me before, and to do so after finding out...

"Uh, you're welcome," I said, handing her the last of the books as we both stood up. She quirked her lips, not quite a smirk and not quite a smile, and turned to walk away, but I called for her to stop, then immediately regretted it. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. "Er... you've got Arithmancy next, yeah?"

"Yes," she replied, but hesitantly. Which, even though it caused my spirits to sink, I understood.

"Could you tell the Professor that I might be a little late?" I said, backing away slowly and keeping my eyes trained on hers. "I - I have to get something from the infirmary."

"Sure," she replied softly.

I smiled fleetingly, my heart thudding against my chest. I took a few steps away from her, desperate to be out of her vicinity, when her voice stopped me from going any further. I stilled, but didn't turn around, scared of what I would see, of what she would say.

"It doesn't bother me, you know," she said quietly.

I froze, and whirled around a second later, but by then she was halfway down the corridor. I wondered about the meaning of her words. Of course, I understood what she was talking about, but surely (coming from a family like hers) her opinion on monsters would not be good.

_It doesn't bother me, you know._

I watched her walk away from me. I felt... well, I don't know how to describe it. Like something had washed over me, like a wave.

It was right then that my views of her first started changing. Before, I had pegged her silence as a type of arrogance, her pouted lips as a lack of humor, her icy eyes as a certain coldness. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe she was just quiet, maybe she was unhappy, maybe she was lonely.

Whatever I had thought of her before, from that day on I was smitten.

I wanted to know everything about her, and so I watched her. I noticed how she always crossed her left leg over her right when she sat down, how she lowered her shiny blonde head when alone and held it high when in a crowd. I noticed how she was left-handed, and her notes were neat and dainty. I noticed she didn't eat anything with chocolate, and how she bit her bottom lip whenever she saw Lucius Malfoy. I noticed how she would bite her nails, then quickly pull her fingertips from her mouth as if burnt, and clench her hands. I noticed that on the rare occasions she wore jewelry, she fiddled with it as if itching to take it off, and I noticed how she never wore tacky makeup.

Okay, I might have been a bit of a stalker. So sue me. My friends noticed how preoccupied I was, but they never caught on as to why. I'd feel flashes of guilt every time they asked why I was staring at the Slytherin table, but I couldn't tell them. They would see it as the ultimate betrayal.

If she ever noticed my staring, she never let on. Sometimes I would see her looking in my direction, and our eyes would meet. She would get this unreadable look in her eyes that made my breath catch, but she would always look away first. Each day I felt more helpless. I liked her more and more, but knew my chances were less and less. She would never like someone like me. I was dirt poor. A Gryffindor. A monster. I wasn't even that good-looking - my features were slightly too effeminate for that. So each time she glanced in my direction longer than necessary, or was very slow leaving class when I had to stay behind, I told myself that it meant nothing.

But even I couldn't ignore what happened next.

It was an exceptionally warm day for the time of year, and it was lucky enough to fall on a Hogmseade weekend. Ironically, just as the two times before that I had talked to her, it was the day right after the full moon, and I felt like hell. So while my friends went off to Hogsmeade with promises to buy me lots of candy, I walked around the Hogwarts grounds with my camera.

Not many people knew that I liked photography. It wasn't a common hobby for wizards, and even then they normally only took motion photos; I preferred classic Muggle cameras. I had saved up for years to buy this one, and I favored it above all my others.

I took photographs of everything, and anything, and nothing. I took photos of whatever caught my attention. The sky during a storm, the rain outside a window, the warmth of Gryffindor tower, the lake in the moonlight, the laughter on people's faces, the dewdrops on the grass, the way my friends interacted with each other, the sunlight peaking through the trees. Anything that was beautiful.

As I was trying to fit the Hogwarts towers and lake together in a good composition, I heard people coming closer. I suddenly realized how close I was to the path to Hogmseade; I was right beside the greenhouses for Herbology. I squinted my left eye and took the shot, managing to get it just as a ray of sunlight came out from beneath the clouds, shining directly onto a window and causing a sparkle.

A small group of Slytherin girls from my year came around the corner, including Narcissa. They were laughing boisterously, and I wondered for a second whether they were laughing at me. Narcissa paused in mid-step as soon as she noticed me, but I looked away and pretended to be studying my camera.

"You guys go on ahead," I heard her say to her friends, but I didn't look up.

I thought she was going to stop next to me, but she walked right by me and stood by the flowers, stroking the petals and lowering her head to smell them. She stopped next to some large, white flowers, and finally looked at me arrestingly through the leaves. I remember wondering what she was thinking, why she was here.

"Will you take my picture?" she asked.

"Uh, sure," I said dazedly.

She didn't move, continued to look at me through the leaves, and I adjusted the zoom on my camera to get a head shot of her. I took a snap, and when she still didn't move I took a few more. Eventually she turned her head and froze, and I took a few more shots. She walked around the flowers, freezing every now and then for me take a couple of photos.

I couldn't believe how lucky I was. She was stunning, and the weather was wonderful, and the flowers were in full bloom. These were going to be the best photos I ever took. The best photo shoot I ever did. Nothing would ever compare to this. I felt like a wide-eyed kid in a candy shop.

Even now, the first photo I took, that head shot of her looking at the camera through the leaves, is one of my favorites. It's not only the physical beauty of her and the flowers, it's the heartbreaking and beautiful sadness you can see in her eyes, despite the cold, stoic expression on her face.

"I - I have a better lens up in my room," I said hesitantly. "This one is more for landscapes than for portraits and if you want a - a really good photo, we could - we could go and get it. If you want."

It was only after I said the words that I realized what it sounded like I was propositioning her for. If she noticed, she was silent about it.

"Alright," she said, and followed my lead up to the Gryffindor tower.

I was nervous and my palms sweating as we made our way up. I knew the older years would be in Hogmseade, and that the younger years had some sort of club; we would be all alone up there, in my room. I honestly didn't expect anything to happen, I just didn't want to let this opportunity to go to waste.

We entered the room and she stood by the window, looking around. I couldn't read anything on her expression, so I don't know what she thought. I knelt down and hastily fumbled in my trunk for the right lens and switched them, then turned around, only to find she had taken her robe off.

"Uh... um - er..." I stuttered, averting my eyes.

She wasn't wearing a bra, and nothing was covering her breasts or stomach. I felt my mouth go dry, and I almost dropped the camera that I had spent years of allowance on. _Oh God._

"You said you wanted to take my picture," she reminded. "Do you mind if we do it this way?"

I looked up into her eyes, resisting the temptation to look elsewhere.

"N-no, it's fine," I said as I stood up.

I was hesitant at first, but I soon got into the swing of things and decided that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. I managed to ignore the fact that she had a boyfriend and I was hard, and instead focused on the lighting and the composition and the beauty. She posed for me, natural, relaxed poses that weren't overdone. At one point she even took the thin white curtains off the windows and draped them artfully over her shoulders.

I reached the end of the roll of film, and looked away, suddenly nervous and unsure again. I had been fine when I had the photography to focus on, but now there was nothing to take my attention away from her.

"Well, um, that's - that's all I can do now," I said, looking down and pretending to fiddle with the camera, avoiding her gaze.

"Remus," she said, and I was so startled to hear her say my name that I looked up, only to find her barely inches away from me. There was a slight flush on her face, and I remember thinking that she must have had too much butterbeer.

Before I could realize what was happening, she had closed the distance between us and her lips were lightly pressed against mine. They were soft and velvety, and when she moved them I almost died. I cupped her face in my hands, and lightly kissed her back, moving my mouth over hers. It was soft and slow and tentative, and like nothing I had ever felt before.

She broke away and looked into my eyes, and then closed hers and tilted her face upwards, standing on tiptoe to reach me. I took the hint and dove back down, rubbing my thumbs across her cheeks and kissing her urgently and desperately, fueled even more by her soft sighing into my mouth and the feel of her hands running through my hair.

I swiped my tongue against her bottom lip and felt her breath hitch, before she pressed against me. I groaned at the feel of her against my chest and wasn't able to bear it any longer. I slowly started moving backwards towards my bed and she came with me, crawling over me as I leaned against the pillows. She tilted her head back as I attacked her throat, licking and sucking and nipping. She whimpered and tugged at my hair until I was kissing her again.

I pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes, panting. "Stay," I whispered throatily.

There was a split second where I felt only her hot breath against my cheek, and I feared she would say no, but then she was kissing me again, and I closed my eyes and let myself get carried away.

It didn't matter to me that she had a boyfriend, that she never claimed to feel anything for me, that anyone could come in at any moment and see us, that this could be the end of my friendship with Sirius. All that mattered was that she was there, with me, and nothing else was important.

When I woke up it was already dark, and I was alone. I sat up and blearily looked around, half expecting to see her in the room. There was no one there, and I felt like my stomach had been filled with lead. There was no note, and nothing to prove she had been there except the fact that I wasn't wearing any clothes.

The next time I saw her was in Arithmancy, the following Monday. She sat up at the front and didn't turn around the entire lesson, and I remember feeling both angry and hurt and somewhat used. I caught her by the wrist after class and led her to an empty classroom before anyone could notice. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say, just that I had to say something, anything.

The irony of the situation does hit me, that it should have been the other way around. The girl trying to ask the guy what happened, whether he was using her, if he genuinely liked her.

"I think we should talk about what happened," I say, surprising even myself by how firmly it came out.

She didn't say anything for a moment, simply kept her head lowered and her eyes on the ground, a curtain of blonde hair shielding her face from my view. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, and just as I was about to open my mouth, she spoke.

"There's nothing to talk about," she said, and despite the tremble in her voice I could feel a sharp jolt in my stomach. "It was just... It was a photo shoot, and we were both slightly drunk, and one thing led to another. It was nothing."

"I wasn't drunk," I said, almost defiantly, and then immediately wished I could take it back.

I felt warmth flood my face as I blushed, humiliated by my statement, by the realization that she would draw from it. That I genuinely liked her, and that she was... using me to cheat on her boyfriend. I was nothing to her.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and turned around to walk out the door, intent on getting out of there as fast as possible. I didn't think I'd be able to look her in the eye for the rest of the year.

I was stopped, however, by her grabbing my arm and spinning me around. My startled mind had barely enough time to process that her face held an expression of pure relief and joy, before she was kissing me again.

That was the start of something new. Some of my memories from then all pass by in a blur, until I can't tell one from the other, blending into each other and rippling away like the wind on the sea. Others are so vivid I feel like I am still there, still experiencing them.

I remember meeting in secret, during the weekends or after class. I remember the guilt of lying to my friends. I remember the glances we shared across the hall, the secret smiles in the classrooms, the brush of hands in the corridors. I remember her sneering at me in public, and the regret in her eyes that only I saw. I remember glaring back, silently telling her it was okay. But these all happened so often that each moment flows into another until I can't tell where one ends and the other begins.

Then I can recall perfectly the look on her face before a full moon; the tightness of her mouth and worry in her eyes. Her face was a mask, but her eyes showed everything.

I can remember the one night we both took the risk of going to the lake together. It was dark, and we were sure nobody would see us, or recognize us. We stood on the sand, holding hands and looking at the sky. There was no moon that night.

I remember, when it first started, how she sent me a note. I got it during breakfast, untangling it from the talons of an unfamiliar owl. James wanted to know what it was about, but I couldn't tell him that it said:

_You are an amazing person, but I can't tell you where these feelings come from. What I do know is that I want time to freeze so I can be with you all the time and not have to think about anything else at all. I like everything about you, including the way your face shows everything you're thinking and how you don't care what other people think about you._

It wasn't signed, of course, but I knew immediately who it was from. I looked up and met her gaze across the room, and she held it for a second too long while she smiled. It was risky, and I loved the thrill it invoked in me. I was breathless, dizzy. I loved it.

I remember another time, I'm not sure when, where we had managed to sneak off to an empty classroom for a while. She was seated on my lap, toying with the collar of my shirt, as I absent-mindedly stroked her hair.

She suddenly sat up straighter and said in an odd voice, "Oh God, what are we _doing_?"

It went without saying that she meant in general, not at the particular moment. I continued to stroke her hair until she settled back against me, mulling it over.

We are following our hearts.

We are taking a chance.

We are crazy.

We are self-destructive.

We are lustful.

We are confused.

We are rebelling - her against her family's ideals, me against my good-boy status.

We are falling in love.

We are already in love.

I didn't answer her question, and she didn't ask again. What we were doing never came up between us. Lucius never came up. I knew they were still together, and it hurt me, but I didn't want to force her to do anything. I knew that her and Lucius were a scam, that they didn't love each other.

And that didn't make things perfect, but it was alright with me.

I remember one night during the holidays, the only time we ever fell asleep together. She said Lucius was gone for the night, and I could lock my curtains around my bed so my friends wouldn't know. We fell asleep, tangled up in my sheets with our heads resting on one pillow.

I woke up the next morning to find her watching me silently, an unreadable expression on her face, and I was suddenly struck by how much she meant to me. I needed to tell her, but... I didn't know how.

"Hi," I said softly, still drowsy, "What are you doing awake? It's still early..."

"Good morning," she replied, not taking her eyes off my face. "I'm watching you."

I blushed, inexplicably embarrassed by her scrutiny. "Why?"

"Because I love your face," she said, and, if possible, I blushed even harder.

"I love the way you look too," I whispered, pulling her against me. "And the way you feel." I kissed the skin behind her ear, avoiding her mouth as you do after sleep. "And the way you taste." I felt vaguely uncomfortable, as I had never talked like this before. "But I guess all that makes sense."

"Why's that?"

"Well, because..." I started, intent on telling her the real reason. I swallowed heavily and found it was hard to breathe, I was so nervous. "Because..."

"Because why?"

She looked concerned, and brushed a lock of hair away from my eyes. I remember wishing that she had left it there so I wouldn't have to look directly at her. I laced our fingers together and looked down at her hands.

"Because, 'Cissa..." I finally looked into her eyes. "Because I love you."

There was a heavy silence that made me wish I hadn't said anything. I had made a complete fool of myself.

And then she kissed me hard, urgently, pulling away for a second to look in my eyes and whisper, "I love you too."

I can recall other memories, some pleasant and others not so much. I remember how Peter was the first to find out, and how the guilt of lying compelled me to tell James and Sirius. I remember Sirius didn't talk to me for weeks, and that he almost got Snape killed because of me. After that, it was my turn not to talk to him for weeks. I remember James helped us patch it all up, and how Narcissa had comforted me the whole time.

And then, I can recall my worst memory. The day my world came crashing down around me. I should have expected it; nothing good lasts forever, after all. And this wasn't a fairytale, this was real life. I should have known it wouldn't have lasted, that it was bound to end in heartbreak.

It was, as before, the day after a full moon when I found out. I was in the library, studying for the upcoming exams, when she came in and said, "I need to talk to you."

I took one look at her face and knew something was wrong. Her mask had slipped off, and I could tell she was unhappy. I felt a lurch in the pit of my stomach, and with shaking hands I packed up my things and followed her to another empty classroom.

"What is it?" I asked as soon as she'd locked the door. "What's wrong?"

"You might want to sit down," she said quietly.

I sat stiffly, feeling like someone was going to tell my my parents had died. I had a really bad feeling in my gut, and I thought I knew where this was going, even if I didn't want to admit it. I had my suspicions, but nothing could have prepared me for what she said next.

"I'm engaged to Lucius."

I leaned back in the chair, so shocked that I missed half of her words.

"It was a really hard decision... I really do love you... I just can't... given it a lot of thought... didn't mean to lead you on... incredibly difficult... family would never understand... harm you... can't go against them... meant what I said... I'm truly sorry... always love you..."

I blinked, staring at the wall behind her. I had this one thought running through my head over and over, so I couldn't make sense of anything else. _This is it. It's over._

"Well?" she whispered, eyes wide and sincere.

"I think you should go," I said faintly.

I remember hearing the words come out of my mouth, but I don't remember saying them.

I stared at the door for a long time after she left, listening to the loud silence. I wanted to cry, but I didn't. Instead, I concentrated on breathing. In and out. In an out. More silence. Finally, I gave up. I covered my face with my hands and allowed myself to cry.

The next few weeks were surreal, like a dream. I barely remember them at all. I remember how indignant my friends were, how I had to plead for them to leave her alone. I remember avoiding her in the halls, in class, everywhere. I remember she would look over at me for a long time, and I would tear my gaze away and ignore her.

I remember hearing about the ball. I remember thinking I should have gone with her, but now she would be going with Lucius. I remember I didn't have the will to find a date, to ask another girl, one that wasn't her. I remember James forced me to go. But most of all I remember the dread I felt at seeing her with Lucius.

-----

Now I am wondering where they are.

I don't want to be here at all, and if it wasn't for my friends constantly watching me, I would be long gone. It's horrible. The decorations are tacky, the music is tasteless, the people can't dance, and there's no drink. The worst part is that it is a costume party, and we all had to dress up.

That made even James consider not going, but in the end the idea of fun won. Fun? Yeah, right. This is not my idea of fun. I'm sitting at a table with Peter for company, who's trying to keep me happy and failing miserably. I'm wearing a black leather mask that covers my eyes (the only costume I've got on besides black pants and a shirt) and I feel vaguely like a depressed Zorro.

I wish I hadn't allowed myself to be swayed into coming.

Sighing, I pick up my glass and drain the last of the pumpkin juice, getting ready to tell Peter that I'm going. I put the glass down, and Peter must be more perceptive than I give him credit for, because he notices the look on my face.

"Remus, don't go yet," he pleads. "Just stay a little longer. We'll have fun!"

"Pete," I sigh, "This is not my idea of fun. Tell James and Sirius not to come looking for me, okay?"

I stand up and leave the table before he has a chance to argue. I know I'm running away, but I just don't care. It strikes me as odd that I haven't seen Narcissa or Lucius all evening, but I don't dwell on it. I don't want to think about what they're doing together.

It's as I'm nearing the entrance/exit that I hear her voice. I turn my head to see her talking to Professor Slughorn, who's making sure that everyone's dressed in costume and refusing them entrance if they're not. She's wearing a sleeveless white dress and has a pair of fluffy wings attached to her back. I find it hard to look away.

"Is this alright?" she says, and I can sense the annoyance in her cool tone.

Professor Slughorn nods (he has never favored her much) and she steps through. I freeze, knowing she'll see me immediately, and sure enough, she does. She pauses, looking hesitant, then makes her way towards me. I am tempted to run away, but I can't seem to move.

"I need to talk to you," she says softly, breathlessly, and I find myself nodding.

She leads me to a small, deserted table at the back, where no one will notice us. I sit down dazedly, wondering if this is a dream. She sits down opposite me, and takes hold of my hands. I let her. I don't know why. She's silent for a long moment.

"The wedding is off," she says eventually.

"What?" I ask. Surely I heard her wrong.

"The wedding is off," she repeats quietly. "I - I'm not getting married."

I blink repeatedly, sure now that this is a dream. I think my jaw is hanging half-open, but I can't find the will to close it. I feel like my heart has stopped, like it's waiting for something, and I'm on the edge of a cliff, hanging on by my fingertips. This can't be real. Things like this don't... they just don't happen.

She continues, her voice soft and quiet. "The whole time you were ignoring me, I was going crazy. I missed you so much. I missed your face, your scent, your voice, your... everything. I kept replaying it all in my head. Our first kiss. The night we spent together. Everything. I thought about you all the time. I mean, _all_ the time. And I just can't - I can't imagine never being with you again. It's that simple."

I say nothing. I don't know what to say.

I nod slowly. I don't know why. I look up to find that she's leaning forwards, and I feel my heart clench. I can't - I can't do this. Just as our lips are about to meet, I close my eyes and turn my head to the side. She kisses my cheek instead, and as she pulls back she takes a moment to nuzzle against it. I freeze that moment, knowing that I will look back and remember it like a clear photograph. I find that my heart hurts. It aches.

"It's just..." She's looking down now, at her grip on my hands. "I know I hurt you. I'm really, really sorry. I wish I could take it all back. But you have to realize what a big step this is for me - my parents will probably disown me, and Lucius will want revenge, and... I don't care. You're more important. I - I love you."

I can't believe this is real. There is so much I want to say, but I find I'm speechless.

She looks up, her expression sincere, tortured. Her eyes are glassy, her lashes wet and jet black. "Say something," she whispers. "I can't tell what you're thinking. Please say something."

It strikes me as ironic that she has always been the one wearing the figurative mask, that I could never understand her, and now our roles have reversed. Now I'm the one she can't read, and I'm wearing the mask (this one literal, however).

I don't have an answer for her. Instead, I lean forwards until there are bare millimeters separating our lips. I hesitate, feeling her hot breath on my face, before I dive down and kiss her heartbreakingly softly and slowly. I am scared that when I pull away, all of this will disappear.

But it doesn't. When I pull back, she's still there, smiling softly and looking back at me with open, trusting eyes.

I try to remember everything about this moment. The look in her eyes, the feel of her skin. The way the others are dancing around us, completely oblivious to the earth-shattering even that has just happened. The fact that the music doesn't reach my ears, as I am too lost in the sensation of her. The smell in the air, of pumpkin juice, and perfume, and happiness, and love. The way the light casts a surreal glow on everything around us. I know, without a doubt, that this is the happiest moment of my life, and I am never going to forget it.

I look down at our hands, at the way our fingers fold together, and know that, no matter what, I'll never let go.


End file.
